"Good morning, Mrs. Sanchez." I say as I stroll into the kitchen, for a breakfast snack. Chunky saunters behind me, jumping in fast steps as he reaches his bowl. I hand-painted his name on the side when I first got him.
She gives the marble counter one more swipe before placing the fruit bowl on top of it. "Morning, Ms. April. Anything for breakfast?" She says cheerily, her cheeks a little flushed from the cleaning she's been doing.
"An apple will be fine," I tell her and shoot her a look. "As always."
She meerly scoffs and pulls open the fridge, retrieving a granola bar. "You should be eating more. Y'know Elijah could eat the whole family's meal combined." She says as she washes an apple over the sink and hands it to me.
"Trust me, I know. I've seen it." I say with a laugh, recalling my, very distant, best friend's antics.
"I'm worried about him." She says suddenly and hunches over the counter, placing one hand over her chin.
"Why?" I ask, taking a bite of the apple she gave me.
"He's not himself anymore. He stays home all the time and it's like he's not even there. He doesn't eat and doesn't talk as much as he used to. Am I doing something wrong as a parent?" She says thickly, worry and pain lacing her voice.
"Hey-hey! You're a great mom and a wonderful person, too. I bet Elijah is just going through sonething." I try to reassure her.
"He locks himself in his room and only leaves for school. I'm worried." She strains out.
"I noticed it too, but we just have to let him be. He said he's coming over for the weekend and will be spending it here. I'll use that chance to talk to him." I tell her and her faces flushes with relief. "Does that make you feel better?"
"Yes, it does." The plump woman says cheerily and walk around the counter to give me a hug. She smells like peaches and summer warmth.
"Such an angel." She muses when she pulls back.
But her face grows sullen.
She clears her throat light before attempting to speak. "You father called." She said lowly, a pitiful smile on her lips.
I swear my heart skipped a beat, but not for the right reasons. The bite of apple I swallowed now feels very large and dry in my throat. My hands begin to sweat and grow clammy. I simply rub them along the side of my jeans.
"Oh, okay. W-what did he say?" I ask, trying to keep my breathing steady, so my voice doesn't come off as shakey as I imagine it'll be.
"He said he'd like a visit. It has been a few weeks." Mrs. Sanchez says, lowly but firmly.
"When?" Is the only word that I'm able to let out. I take in a shuddered breath and let it out as gently as I can.
"Next week Monday. There's a group session scheduled." She says, leaning against the counter. I don't like the look of sadness on her face. Happiness suits her and I don't want to be the cause of any type of sadness.
"Okay. Thanks for telling me." I say, forcing a warm smile to appear at my lips.
She only flashes a small smile and reaches for my hand, gently rubbing the back of my hand with her thumb. "Are you gonna be okay?"
I pull my hand away and and step away from her, feigning a smile. "I'll be fine, Mrs. Sanchez. See? I'm good." I tell her as I walk towards the door.
"Well, okay. It'll rain today, so don't forget your umbrella." She yells out and I pause in the foyer.
"I already packed it. Have a nice day, Mrs. Sanchez!" I yell back.
"You too, dearie." Her voice floats back as I shut the door and make my way down the long driveway. The clouds look murky and thick and it might pour at any moment, so I quicken my pace a little.
Walking would seem like a harder option since I do have a car but I prefer to walk. It helps me think and let off some steam. Plus, a little excercise never killed anyone.
A few minutes later the wind starts pouring down and I reach for the side-pocket of my backpack and pull out my rolled unbrella, holding it above my head as I continue my trek to school.
The umbrella doesn't do much protection for my shoes as the rain pelts on the sidewalk and bounces back to paint my shoes and the hem of my jeans.
The sounds of an engine coming to a stop next to the sidewalk make me back away from it. The windows are tinted and the charcoal black G63 stands tall and shiny as raindrops pelt against it.
I slowly back away, the reality of a possible abduction seeping in, until the dark window rolls open and a familiar face comes to view.
"Fold that up and get in." He says simply gesturing to my umbrella from the driver's side.
"You sure you want your seats getting wet?" I say, motioning to myelf as a whole, as the rain still soaks into my shoes and bottom of my jeans
"Get in." He repeats.
I move forward and fold the umbrella, shaking off the excess raindrops before dropping into the back leather seats, shutting the door behind me.
He grabs the umbrella off my hands and places it on the floor of the backseat. I pull my backpack off my back and throw it in the back as well.
I pull on the seatbelt and he begins driving.
I find myself in this quiet and awkward stage where I feel like I should say something but don't know what. On the other hand, he seems relaxed as he keep's driving... As if this is the most normal thing ever-
"Why were you walking in the rain?" His husky voice breaks through.
"Uh, I walk to school." I tell him and a look I can't define passes over his face.
"Do you not have a ride or something?" He asks, his hands clenching the steering wheel as he takes a sharp left into a busy street.
"I do. But I like walking." I reply, linking my fingers together. His face get's that look again and I look at him quizzically.
"Even in the rain?" He muses, his dark voice sounding amused.
I scoff and fold my arms, the seatbelt strainging against my chest. "I had an umbrella..."
"And that was working out so great for you." He retorts, motioning to my now wet Vans.
I'm baffled by the fact that we hadn't even greeted each other, but had a meaningless conversation nonetheless.
I then notice the direction we're drving in does not go to school. "Um, where are we going?" I ask skeptically, hoping this isn't a kidnapping.
"Relax, I'm not kidnapping you," He says. Did I say that out loud? "We're getting coffee." He says simply.
And soon enough we pull up at Montego's Cafe, which conveniently has a drive-through. The girl at the window smiles when Sawyer rolls down his window.
"What can I get you? We have lattes, mochas and iced cinammon as specials for today" she says, a slow hum in her voice. I'm suprised she didn't offer herself as a special.
"I'll have a black," Sawyer says noncholantly, a dark contrast compared to her cheery tone. "What do you want?" He says as he turns to me, pining me with those brown eyes.
I clear my clogged throat before speaking. "A latte is fine." I tell him, loud enough for the girl in the window to hear. She rings it down and Sawyer hands her a few bills and we move on to the next window.
By the time we reach school, a warm feeling has nestled into my chest. The feeling only a good cup of coffee can bring. Sawyer and I haven't said a single word to each other, the last words being me thanking him for the coffee and him brushing it off.
He finally switches off the engine after parking next to a few of his friend's cars. The rain has ceased and a few people loiter the parking lot.
I grab my bag off the backseat and neatly roll my umbrella into it's bottle-sized form, placing it into the side-pocket.
"Thanks for the ride." I tell him and push the door open. He doesn't reply but I can feel the prick of his eyes, burning holes into my back. I ignore it, and pull my hood down further and swing my bag over my shoulder.
I shut the door and begin my trek into the school, and the feeling of being watched washe over me and I lift my head. I almost reel back at the stares and eyes that wash over me. I take in a deep breath and pull my hood closer to my face, blocking away the pricks of eyes and keep walking to Homeroom.
A few people have already filled in the seats and Mrs. Monson is already at her desk, sipping on a large mug of what I assume is coffee. I make my way down the rows of paired desks until I reach my usual seat, against the wall.
A few minutes pass and I pull out my phone and scroll through my instagram. My mom posted new pictures of her and Tanya, and another man I don't recognise. She looks happy, like she's having fun. I scroll through more of her pictures and more from years ago.
"Who are you stalking?" A familiar voice chirps from beside me. I look beside me to find Emily dropping down on her seat next to mine. The way she said it reminded me of the way Vanessa used to say, "What'cha doin'?" on Phineas and Ferb.
"My mom." I tell her noncholantly, putting my phone away.
"Oh, she's still on that business trip, right?" She asks, pulling a few wet strands of hair that stick to her forehead. It must be still raining outside.
"Um, no... She works there now." I tell her and she nods bleakly.
"When is she coming back?" She continues, pullig her phone from the inside-pocket of her jacket.
"I don't really know." I tell her honestly and that being the only honest thing I could tell her. I love Emily. She's a good friend. But trusting all my secrets with her would be a risk I don't want to take. She talks to much for her own good and not to mention how she's friendly with literally everyone in school.
"That's weird..." She says. And another thing, Emily can't handle anything heavy or too intense. Which is why telling her about my past wouldn't work out well for any of us.
I don't say anything in reply, only tuning out of the conversation to look at her. Her dark-brown hair is tied into a sleek ponytail, with her mane falling down her collared neck. Her white school shirt is has a few buttons left open, exposing her impressive cleavage. The blue and black scotch-pattern skirt rides high on her tanned thighs as she sits cross-legged on the chair.
"You're starring." She says, sounding amused.
I blink and clear my throat. "Sorry."
"It's fine. You do it all the time." She says, with a dismissive wave of her hand, a smile on her face.
_
The cafeteria is already buzzing with chatter when I get there. The queue at the lunch counter is suprisingly small so I saunter towards it to buy an apple or something. My eyes land on the floor as I wait in queue and a pair of black heels clicks into view. My eyes rise up from toned legs to a really short skirt, a tight shirt and a slender neck. The face has me reeling back in suprise.
Lexi Ronalds stands in front of me, in all her pretty glory. What does she want.
"Um... Hi?" I say, trying ti break off her icey glare.
"Don't 'Um, hi' me. What are you playing at?" She hisses, crossing her arms, making her already exposed chest look bigger.
"What?" I ask, looking around the cafteria. A few eyes are now trailed on our exchange. I can literally feel my lungs shrinking at the confontation. I'm so confused.
"What are you playing at?" She repeats, her lips pursed into a thin, glossy line.
"What?" I repeat, my eyebrows bunching up in question. This only manages to turn her cheeks slightly red from suppressed anger.
"Look, I'm gonna make this easy for you: stay away from Sawyer. He's mine." She seethes crossing and uncrossing her arms.
So this is what all this is about? Honestly I'm just really hungry and have no time for this useless interrogation. "Okay." I say and look away moving up on the position I was in queue.
I hear her huff in anger and her heels click behind me. "I heard he gave you a ride this morning. And that he spent lunch with you the other day. And let me just make it clear: loners like you never get the guy. So back off before you emberass yourself." She says menacingly.
Loners. Why thanks.
I even out my breathing and rub my moist hands against my jeans. "Always ready to assume the worst, huh? You don't even know me, yet you walk up to me and start with these claims I have no knowledge of. I don't know and I don't care what the hell you're talking about, so just leave me alone." I tell her in one breath. She blanches and huffs in response.
"Whatever." She mutters and with a flick of her platinum blonde hair, she turns on her heel and struts away.
I turn to the counter and try to block away the sound of whispers with deep calming breaths. I get a fruit bowl and a cup of yoghurt and give Betty the right change, and head up to my usual table.
Evan and Cami are already there, and Cami has a lollipop stick pressed between her now
purple-ish lips. She smiles in greeting when I slip into my usual chair.
Her smile looks wonky as the lollipop has dyed them a shade of blue and purple. Her hair has been styled into a fluffy bun on the top of her head. She looks beautiful.
"April, my girl. How are you?" She says cheerily. Too cheerily after having five lessons.
"I'm okay and how about you guys?" I ask her and Evan.
"I'm good." Evan replies the same time when Cami says, "I'm great"
"You're catching a ride with me after school, right?" Cami reminds me, pulling out a Hershey bar from her bag.
I nod. "Yeah, so we can do the cake thing." I respond.
Evan looks at me confused. "What cake thing?"
Cami takes it upon herself to answer. "Trenton's birthday is this Friday and we're making him a cake as a gift." She says with a beaming smile. She seems really excited.
"Really? That's really sweet. Plus I know why you," she says looking at Cami in mild accusation. "Are forcing April to help you since you can't cook to save your life." Evan says with an amused smile.
"Hey! Pop-tarts and noodles do count as food." She huffs crossing her arms and taking another bite off the chocolate bar.
"Yeah, whatever you say..." Evan says and Cami's lips purse in what I think is unchecked rage.
I slide an awaiting hand across the table towards Cami, and give her the best pleading look I can muster.
"Can I have some. Please." I say, lacing it with a smile in the end.
She looks stricken and traumatised as she breaks off a piece of her cocolate bar and places it on my my palm. "Never do that again. You're gonna kill a guy with those eyes one day." She jokes.
"Whatever. It got the job done," I say as I take a bite off it. Evan releases a bark of laughter at the exchange.
We fall into a comfortable silence as we eat our short meals, Cami and Evan talking about little nothings throughout. I notice that we're missing Claire and Emily.
Evan must've noticed me looking at their chairs and nods to a spot behind me. "They're over there."
I twist my head back to see Luca Lores' table, now complete with Emily and Claire. Em is sat naturally next to Luca and Claire seems to be glaring daggers at Lexi, who is sitting unreasonably close to Sawyer. I can almost see her panties from how high her skirt is riding up her thighs. Emily has the same case.
I only sigh and turn back to our table.
"I would be caught dead in all that." Cami says and Evan nods in agreement.
The bell rings, indicating the end of break and the beginning of period six. Me and Cami have Visual arts together; so she links her slender arm with mine and leads us to the studio.
_
Cami's house is a few blocks away from mine. It has a large gate and a fair distance to the front door. Cami parks on the driveway and kills the engine.
"My parents should be home, but they'll clear out from the kitchen so we can get done faster." She tells me as we slip out of her Lexus.
"That's fine." I respond as she bounds up the steps, her dress shoes tapping against the grey tile.
She knocks once and pushes the the door open, amd a blast of cold air hits me in the face. She steps in and I trail behind her, my Vans sqeaking against the tile. Cami's house is big, almost as a big as mine but it feel warmer. And homier.
"Honey, I'm home!" She yells out into the staircase as she makes her way into the kitchen.
The kitchen is spotless with a bowl of fruit on the island, the windows bringing in streaks of light and the many drawings and cards that are stuck on the fridge.
Light footsteps bound down the staircase and Mrs. Davison appear, a beaming smile on her face and a baby in her arms. It still amazes me of how much Cami looks like her.
"You're back!" She says, giving Cami brief hug and a kiss on her cheek. She pulls back and spots me standing a few feet behind Cami. "And you brought April!"
She gushes and moves past Cami to give me a one-sided hug, minding the infant in her arms.
"How are you, sweetie? It's been a while." Mrs. Davison says, walking around the counter and placong the baby on the island, securing her arms around him just to be safe.
"I'm good, Mrs. D and how are you?" I reply, resting my elbows on the marble counter.
"I'm great, dear. Just in need of a break and Cami, here," She shoots a look to Cami, who currently has her face stuck inside the fridge. "Promised to babysit Charlie." She says and pokes Charlies belly, making him release a fit of giggles.
"And I will. He's gonna stay right here while we bake." Cami says, finally coming up from the fridge.
"Bake what?" She muses, while making faces at Cahrlie who immitates them.
"A cake for Trenton's brithday." Cami answers and I just nod when Mrs. Davison looks at me in question.
"Oh, so you mean April is the one who's gonna be baking?" Mrs. Davison muses with a raised eyebrow. "Because, Cami, I don't want you burning down my house."
Cami glares at her mom tips her chin up. "I'll be helping, mother." She says and turns on her heels and stalks towards the staircase. "I'm gonna change into something else." She says as she disappears.
We fall into a confortable silence as Cami disappears and I just watch Charlie attempt to blow bubbles with his mouth. And giggling hysterically whenever one pops.
"You're good for her." Mrs. Davison says suddenly, pulling me out of my trance.
"Huh?"
"You're good for Cami. I know that girl is headstrong and stubborn but I'm glad she has a good friend like you. She talks about you most of the time, y'know?" She continues.
"Really?" I voice out.
"Yeah. Well... after Trenton." She says and I can't resist a laugh. "I've seen your group of friends. I'm not impressed. But you're different. I like that about you." She muses, her dark-brown eyes boring into mine.
"Thanks." I say awkwardly and she releases a laugh.
-
Fin.